Whittle You Into Kindling (1245 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: one-part_stories
Rating: 1.96 on 41 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Stagger Lee (View user info) at 2007-01-29 06:18:52 EST
We sat around on cardboard boxes, eating lukewarm, greasy Thai out of more cardboard boxes. Cardboard boxes had become our life. The only thing I'd really unpacked was the old record player, which was now sitting in the corner of the room, the needle coaxing sound from the worn vinyl. As soon as all the boxes were in the house, I'd made a beeline for the box with the record player in it. I knew it annoyed her, but I did it anyway; I had to have music.
I walked along the shoulder of the highway, watching the lights of the town ahead. I was limping; something was terribly wrong with my knee. I'd left her back at the site of the crash, sandwiched between various crushed panels of the car. The crash had done things to her face that I'd just as soon forget.
When she miscarried the first time, she didn't speak for weeks, literally. I got nothing but murmurs from her. I was disgusted by her, in a sense. I couldn't look at her quite the same way anymore, as though she were flawed, broken. The thought that something had died inside her repulsed me in a way I hadn't thought possible. I tried though, for her sake, for our sake. Tried to break through the wall she had thrown up all around herself, closing herself off from the world. It wasn't easy.
A truck passed me, heading away from town. I waved at the driver, flailing wildly, desperate to flag him down. I must have looked horrible in the unforgiving glare of his headlights; tangled hair, bloodied face and clothes, my eyes wide and staring. He didn't slow down.
Later that night, when our dinner was finished, she wanted to unpack more of the boxes. She wanted plates, of all things. She was flustered, dishevelled, her face flushed and her teeth clenched. I pointed out that we'd already eaten and that the plates could wait until tomorrow. She called me a lazy, thoughtless motherfucker and fled the room, running upstairs over our bare floors and into the empty rooms. I wanted to follow her, but in the end I didn't.
The car had come out of nowhere. The son of a bitch blindsided me in the dark. He came cannoning out of the road to the left, slamming into the car. She screamed, in horribly mingled terror and pain, as the door crumpled inwards and crushed her legs. I wrenched at the wheel, mindlessly, stupidly, and the car careered up over the shoulder and stopped by ramming into a tree. I looked over at her. Her eyes were still open, and there was a chunk of twisted metal buried in her cheek. I don't know if she was still alive at that point, but she wasn't moving.
The next morning, she began unpacking the plates. Once she had a few boxes emptied I cornered her, hugged her, and convinced her to take a break and come to lunch with me. We ate soggy fish and chips down at the pier, while the kids on their summer break came and went around us. It wasn't a sunny day, but in its own way, it was perfect.
I struggled free of the wreckage, my knee swelling already. That was the only place I could feel any real pain, though I had dozens of bruises. I smelt petrol and wondered, in a detached manner, if there would be an explosion. I staggered around the other side of the car and wrenched at it. I couldn't budge it, pull as I might. I gave up and collapsed, cursing, by the side of the highway.
You never really know your wife. I thought I did. I thought she was a tough, independent woman. That was the woman I loved. She always claimed that she didn't want children, at least not yet, and possibly never. That all changed when she got pregnant. Millions of couples around the world can't conceive, and we do it by accident. She became clucky, maternal. She decorated the nursery, and would spend hours sitting around the house, singing to her womb. She became a mother-in-waiting.
After some debate with myself, I pulled myself to my feet. My mobile phone was receiving no coverage out here. I decided I had to leave her and go for help. But if I was honest, leaving her behind was a relief.
Guilt sneaks into your heart in strange ways. Once she miscarried, I was relieved, in a way. To begin with, anyway. I thought she would become herself again, that she would lose her status as mother-in-waiting and return to being my wife; fiery, independent and proud. But she withdrew into her shell of grief, winding it about herself and closing me off. It was then that the guilt crept into my mind: I wanted her to miscarry, and she had, and it had killed something off inside her, leaving her weakened and not the same woman I married. Not the woman I loved. I was beginning to suspect that she would never be the same woman I loved again; first the mother-in-waiting, now the mother-in-mourning. It wasn't until later that I thought perhaps she could tell that I was relieved, and that's why she shut me out.
The first time we moved in together, before we were married, we lived in an apartment above a tiny all-night bar. It didn't do much business. At night, when the street was quiet, the breeze carried the sounds of the trains at the depot. It was always burning hot in the summer and freezing in the winter. She worked two part-time jobs, one in the bar downstairs and one at a diner across town. We were always tired and poor, but she was mine and I was hers.
It had been her job, the mother-in-waiting's job, to build the nursery. I was my job to dismantle it. She couldn't bear to go in there, or to watch me. I pulled it all out. The cradle, the mobile, the dresser, I took them all away. I stripped the wallpaper. I did this for her, partially out of love, but mostly out of that guilt.
I pawned my first record player to get her the engagement ring. I greeted her when she came back from the diner. I had meant to let her relax, get comfortable, before proposing. But she noticed that my record player was gone. I almost always had that thing running. I couldn't think of a lie on the spot, and my voice seized up completely. It was all I could do to fish the ring box out of my pocket and present it to her, without a word. She said yes even though I hadn't managed to ask the question.
The town lights didn't seem to get any closer. I couldn't maintain any perspective. I had all but given up hope by the time the next set of headlights rolled over the crest in the road. I didn't even wave this time, yet for a wonder, the driver slowed, pulling up beside me and rolling down his window. Just a crack. I told him that my wife had died in a crash back down the road. As soon as I told the driver that she was dead, I knew it was true.
We were finally married, after a long engagement, on the fifth day of May. We had to be engaged for a long time; we were still dirt poor for a long time before the ceremony. I nearly froze up when it came time to say my vows, but I stuttered my way through them eventually. I told her I'd always love her without hesitation or regret, and I hope that was true for a while.
User Reviews
Submitted by darkwulffe (user info) at 2007-05-26 04:00:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Very good.
I was actually saddened
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-05-26 03:06:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I goddamn near took off a point for the linkwhore, but your storytelling skills prevented such immaturity.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-03-12 03:55:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Wow, a few people reviewed this since I saw it. Thanks guys.
Submitted by ufonacious (user info) at 2007-03-12 02:40:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2007-02-18 20:33:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by r1nce (user info) at 2007-02-04 22:31:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Konerak (user info) at 2007-02-01 09:45:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Good Job
Submitted by pirate_pipi (user info) at 2007-02-01 05:56:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
J'aime ca beaucoup.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-02-01 05:31:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
You are a wretched creature born of lies, red.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2007-02-01 05:04:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I like +2ing my alter - particularly when he does such good work and makes me look like a better person.
I'm considering changing this to my primary account and using my emo user name for -2ing people
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2007-02-01 04:44:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2007-01-29 16:00:29 (#)
Ranking: 2
You navigate the time shifts here like an old man captaining a square-rigger.
Presenting it all chronologically would have been terrible for the story, and having one big flashback would have been too much of a disturbance. A lot of people would have had trouble pulling this off, but, of course, you are not "a lot of people."
You're a bad motherfucker.
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Agreed. This was a fantastic piece.
Submitted by rob_berg (user info) at 2007-01-30 19:44:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
this was...
sad.
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2007-01-30 19:39:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wait, since when has Pentameter been around?
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2007-01-30 19:38:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Amazing. She creeped me out a bit.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-01-30 19:14:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Hahaha you're fucked in the head.
Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals (user info) at 2007-01-30 06:45:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 for marrying a dead chick.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-01-30 05:26:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Many thanks.
Submitted by swimmingbirdblue (user info) at 2007-01-30 01:13:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Good.
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-01-30 00:16:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Bwahahahahahahahaha!
Kidding.
Very good.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-01-30 00:01:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
The way you presented this, timewise, was well done.
I'm quite often disturbed by your female characters, or the reactions of your male characters to them. This was no exception to that, but there was a warmth that mitigated it here.
This was a sad tale, wonderfully written.
Submitted by i_can_get_you_a_toe (user info) at 2007-01-29 18:42:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-01-29 16:47:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Marge: Homer, couldn't we pawn my engagement ring instead?
Homer: Now, I appreciate that, honey, but we need one hundred and fifty
dollars here.
There's No Disgrace Like Home
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2007-01-29 16:00:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You navigate the time shifts here like an old man captaining a square-rigger.
Presenting it all chronologically would have been terrible for the story, and having one big flashback would have been too much of a disturbance. A lot of people would have had trouble pulling this off, but, of course, you are not "a lot of people."
You're a bad motherfucker.
Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2007-01-29 14:10:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2007-01-29 13:55:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2007-01-29 13:42:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
there are no lies in the acts of self-preservation
Submitted by DirtyHarry (user info) at 2007-01-29 13:27:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
ouch, my heart hurts
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2007-01-29 12:46:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
when you've got it, flaunt it.
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2007-01-29 12:23:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2007-01-29 11:57:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This really disturbed me for some reason.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-01-29 10:40:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm sneaky like that.
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2007-01-29 10:37:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i almost didnt read this because i didn't know it was your entry
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-01-29 10:35:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
As always, you are consistently excellent with your prose. Well written.
Submitted by homer42 (user info) at 2007-01-29 09:16:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by yhywstudios (user info) at 2007-01-29 07:54:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2007-01-29 07:45:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Very good.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2007-01-29 07:19:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-01-29 07:02:15 (#)
Ranking: 0
Assume it was a very nice record player and a crappy ring.
******************************
It would bloody well have to be. :)
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2007-01-29 07:02:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm glad that's what you took from it, Caes.
Assume it was a very nice record player and a crappy ring.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2007-01-29 06:52:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well, this is painfully sad. Painful because it seems so plausible. It's actually not the death that sticks out for me; it's the slow disintegration of the relationship. Well done, Stag.
Although I don't know how much money anyone would get for pawning an old record player.
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-01-29 06:38:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by orph (user info) at 2007-01-29 06:29:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment